


The Curse of the NHL

by duperstar



Category: Hockey RPF, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dean doesn't really hate Canada, Hockey, Jealous Geno, M/M, Mystery, Past Sid and Dean romance, Protective Geno, Protective Mario, Serious Injuries, Unexplained Injuries, fake FBI agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4113313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duperstar/pseuds/duperstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something unnatural is happening in the NHL and its leaving people hurt. Geno's worried about Sid's safety, Sid's worried about Geno's. And then the Winchester brothers show up to find out what's really going on. Oh and Dean bumps into a familiar face along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curse of the NHL

**Author's Note:**

> Had an urge to mix Supernatural and hockey together and then turn it into a big mystery so now I'm just hoping I can do justice to the idea.  
> And big thanks to Swede for helping me make the ideas actually make sense and bring it all together (and putting up with my epic messages for this that were totally understandable)  
> Feel free to share if you have any theories along the way
> 
> Slightly inspired by how many injuries the Penguins have suffered over the past few years and how many times I've had to question if I believe in curses or not.

Sometimes people get hurt in sports, that's a fact that doesn't surprise anyone. In ice hockey people expect the injuries to be from getting hit with the puck or a misplaced hit. With the speeds that they travel at times during games it's hard to imagine a time where injuries don't happen. Not all injuries are the same, though.

It doesn't happen often, but once every few years someone drops down and doesn't get back up again. No, they're not dead, but they're not the person they once were either. The toughness associated with a hockey player is unidentifiable as they lie there on the ice, as still as anything, with the arena going silent and medical staff having no idea what to do.  
It's not a concussion. It's not a hockey related injury or a health issue. Some say it's just bad luck. Shit happens, right? But it's important to question the unknown. 

There's never a clue to what happened to take the life out of the player involved. They're just gone. Replays show nothing damaging and medical checks don't either.

No one that it's happened to has returned to play, but there are some that have made full recoveries excluding that. It takes time and doctors aren't sure what it is that leads to their gradual return to health just yet. So that's why I will start to refer to it as The Curse of the NHL. No one knows why or how any of it happens, but the fact that it does suggests something weird could be going on upstairs. Or worse, downstairs.

I am just a local freelance writer, not a medical expert or even a hockey expert. But my gut tells me that none of this is normal or natural. In fact, I'm not sure how anyone could dismiss the supernatural here.

Signing off,

Harold Gorkmann. 

*

Sam and Dean were in a bar in Toronto after successfully dealing with a nest of vampires when they saw a clip that caught their eye. Neither of them were big fans of hockey, so they hadn't been paying attention the game on the screens, but when the rest of the bar started making distressed noises they knew something had happened.

“What happened there?” Sam asked the bartender who had been watching with her eyes glued to the screen most of the game. Obviously a Canadian. 

“Think the guy fainted or something. Maybe hit his head as he fell. Doesn't look like a heart issue.”

“Concussions are a bitch,” Dean muttered, downing his drink. “And that is just one example why fighting demons is better than chasing a ball around some ice.”

“It's a puck, sweet cheeks, not a ball. And I wouldn't say comments like that in a bar in Toronto.”

“Well I apologise, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Dean told her with a kind smile before turning to Sam and whispering, “I've had enough of hockey and maple syrup to last a life time.”

“The stretcher is coming out now,” the bartender sighed. “Such a shame.”

*

“Have you heard anything on Ehrhoff's condition?” 

Sid shook his head and forced a small smile. Ehrhoff was injured in the game against Florida last night. It was so sudden, scary even. He just dropped down with no one near him. The doctors said that he was okay at the but the fact that he wasn't even moving caused a lot of worry and they haven't been provided with updates since. Waiting to know what was going on with the health of a team mate and a friend was always nerve wrecking. 

“We haven't been told anything. We all wish him the best. Everyone knows how important he is to this team and we hope he'll be back competing with us as soon as he's healthy again. It was a scary moment last night but there's nothing to indicate it's something too serious as far as we know so far.”

“Did you think the hit from Jagr early in the game could have caused the concussion?”

“I'm not a medical professional so I honestly don't know if it's even a concussion. But in my experience a concussion can knock you back straight away and he was fine for a long while after the Jagr hit. And we all know the type of player and person Jagr is. It looked like a clean hit.”

There was a small chuckle from one of the reporters on Sid's left to get his attention.

“And what about Harold Gorkmann's comments? Do you think the supernatural could be at work here?” The whole room let out a small snigger and Sid waited for them to settle, as he didn't really feel like laughing along, no matter how ridiculous it all sounded, simply because his friend was hurt right now and it wasn't the time for jokes. 

“I think we've just got to leave it all to the doctors to ensure he gets the best treatment possible. Thanks guys,” Sid said before leaving the press conference to go see the rest of his team.

They were scheduled to play again that day, so they were waiting for a young defencemen to be called up to replace Ehrhoff for the game. The rest of the team were scattered around Consol doing their pregame rituals so Sid went to check on everyone before he could get on with his own. He knew a lot of the team were shaken up last night, which was entirely understandable. Seeing someone drop down like that was terrifying. 

“Feeling ready?” he asked Downie, who had been staring holes into the wall opposite him. Sid knew he could get emotional easily and he knew he blamed himself when another teammate got hurt. Downie was always the first to take the blame for something, even when it was clear there was nothing he could've done and it wasn't his fault at all.

“I'm always ready,” he replied, still staring holes into the wall. “You don't need to worry about me. I'm focused and I’m ready. Got to show Chris we can keep going, eh?”

“Just don't go killing anyone out there,” Sid told him, aiming for light hearted but knowing from his own experiences how Downie could hurt people when he wasn't focused.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Downie smirked.

Geno was the last player Sid bumped into, which he'd done on purpose really, because he knew that if he started talking to Malkin then he wouldn't want to leave to see anyone else after.

“Is Sid okay?” Geno asked him, leading to Sid releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Of course Geno would ask about him. He always does. And of course Geno noticed everything. Sid had barely slept with the worry from seeing Hoffer like that, especially after reading all the conspiracy theories about what had happened to him online. He felt awful.

“I can play,” Sid answered, knowing he wasn't capable of lying to the Russian. “It'll be fine.”

“Sid can always play,” Geno whispered, stepping closer to him as if to use his larger body to shield Sid from the rest of the room. “I said is Sid okay?”

Sid wrapped his arms around Geno's waist instead of replying, knowing that Geno would understand what he needed better from his actions than his words.

“Thanks G,” Sid sighed into the taller man's chest. 

“He'll be okay. And we'll win tonight too. I'm score for you if you too tired.”

Sid let out a small laugh before adding, “I can score my own goals thank you very much.”

“You welcome.” Geno smiled and then released the smaller man.

*

They won the game 2-1 with Geno getting the game winner. The locker room was calm after the game up until news that something had happened early in the Colorado vs Boston game. 

Talbot was hurt. 

Dropped down apparently exactly the same way that Ehrhoff did. 

The whole room fell silent before turning to their distraught looking goalie.

“The curse got Max,” he whispered, turning quickly to face Tanger and speaking frantically to him in French. 

Sid didn't know what to do. He knew how close Flower and Talbo were and he knew that Flower believed in all the theories about the Curse of the NHL, so it wasn't like telling him everything would be alright would make it any better.

Someone had switched the TV on so they could see for themselves what happened. It showed a clip ten minutes before he fell, with David Krejci catching Max awkwardly. It was ridiculously similar to the Ehrhoff situation. A clean hit, good contact and then some time later the player falling down. It didn't make sense. The hit didn't look like it hurt him but the analysis on TV kept returning to that moment, despite it showing nothing that could explain the injury.

“There's an off day tomorrow,” Sid told Flower. “If you need to go to Colorado then we support that.”

“I'll take him,” Tanger piped up, putting an arm around Fleury.

Sid caught Geno's eye in the room and knew instantly that Geno was taking the news terribly too. Sid had always been close friends with Max. In fact Max knew things about him that he'd never told anyone else before. But Sid was accustomed to hiding his emotions so he knew he didn't look as down as some of his other team mates. He had to be strong for them, which he could do. But usually when he feels shit Geno is there to be strong for him. Now Geno needs Sid. 

*

People laughed when I wrote about the Curse of the NHL and suggested that something supernatural could be going on, but two more players were struck down in the past week. Surely it's clear now that something is happening here. My research shows that it usually happens once every two seasons, so twice in a week must indicate that the evilness responsible feels threatened. It knows we're getting close. 

Why the curse is only attacking the NHL is something I do not know. But it is here and cannot be ignored. 

It is not a new phenomenon. I have traced it right back to the 1993 season and I am sure that it has happened more.

Could it relate to Lord Stanley? A rival company? Cursed Indian Burial Grounds? Rival fans? I do not know. 

At this stage, two in a week may just be a coincidence or an anomaly but if a third occurrence comes then people must start listening to me. Three would be a pattern. You won't be able to ignore me then!

AND STOP CALLING ME CRAZY

No one has the answers to my questions. No one knows what is going on here. So why be so quick to dismiss what I have to say when nothing logical can be applied to this?

Thoughts to live by my friends.

Signing off, 

Harold Gorkmann.

*

Sid was watching Chicago vs Washington at Geno's house when his worst fear happened again. He stared at the screen as Michal Rozsival dropped down. This time they had no hit to show in the replays. It was his first shift and less than twenty seconds into it he dropped down.  
Both he and Geno sat in silence and disbelief for a long time before turning to each other.

“What the fuck is going on?” Sid whispered, visibly shaking.

Everyone knew Sid was superstitious but this was something else beyond even that.

“It be okay,” Geno whispered.

They were both sitting on the sofa but because of how stiff and scared Sid looked Geno pulled him down so he was resting against his side.

“Hoffer and Max and now...” His voice faded out, panicked and stressed. “Who next? What if-”

“Shhh,” Geno interrupted, gently stroking Sid's hair. “I won't let it get you. I protect you always.”

Sid felt chills down his spine and heat in his cheeks and really wished he could hide his dumb crush on Geno better at times like this. But how can he not feel touched when the man says things like that to him?

The only problem was Sid's main worry wasn't about himself getting hurt, but about Geno. He has no idea what he'd do if Geno turned out like the others did.

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of an introduction to what's going on in the NHL


End file.
